Better Off
by SamanthaRose
Summary: The continuation of Mutation and How Does it Feel, follows the continuing story of Ishmael, Zoey and all of their friends. REDONE
1. Scene 1: Carriers

Author's Note!!

Long time no see, my lovely readers. I'm so incredibly sorry for the long long long long long long long long long looooooooooooong break, I've had writers block worse than ever before. I hope this short piece makes up for it and trust me when I say that there will be more to come! This is the recreation of the crossover of Mutation/They're Changing and How Does it Feel?

I hated Before Our Eyes. HATED it. I had no motivation to continue it, felt I was simply reusing ideas to keep people interested and hated how it was turning out. I'm trying again, with a new direction and some ideas that I wasn't able to use before that I really wanted to! I hope you enjoy!

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…

…

_"Mission Control, come in. We have incoming, Mission Control, do you copy?"_

_"Copy that, we see them."_

_"What's the situation, Mission Control? Are they infected?"_

_"Stand down alerts. Targets are not infected. Repeat, targets are NOT infected."_

_"Are you sure, Mission Control?"_

_"Affirmative. They're carrying weapons. They have wounded. They have offered up their weapons in surrender and have stopped their advance."_

_"Send out a team."_

_"Copy that."_

…

The group of half starved, filthy, exhausted survivors didn't have to wait long before the fortified gates of the encampment opened and a team of armed soldiers hurried out, shouting at them all to get on their knees on the ground.

The survivors complied without hesitation, ready for the nightmare to end, ready for their journey to be over. While they were searched and relieved of their weapons, the armed soldiers asked them questions in no nonsense tones.

"Have you come in contact with the infected?" A woman was asking one of the men in the group.

"Of course." He replied with a drawl, grunting in discomfort when one of the other soldiers began to pat him down. "We fought our way here, after all."

"How was he wounded?" Someone else was asking, several soldiers preparing a wounded man in the midst of the group for transport.

"Shot. It was an accident, friendly fire. There was a fight, things got complicated." One of the female survivors answered, trembling. Tears had cut ugly tracks through the filth on her face, her blue eyes still filled with them.

"He needs help!" Another of the female survivors gasped, her voice accented. "Please, he needs medical attention."

"We're taking him in now, ma'am, please don't worry." A soldier said calmly.

"We're going to need to quarantine you until you can be processed." Another soldier informed the oldest of the group, the man's steel grey eyes narrowing. "I know you've probably heard stories of other bases… this one is mostly run by civilians, sir. This is all a precaution. We can't have a disaster striking or another outbreak hitting."

"Stories don't even begin to scratch the surface, son." The old man growled, the soldier offering him the barest of smiles before helping him to his feet. The others also stood, and moved as a group towards the gates.

They were taken first to a clean room, stripped of their filthy clothes and hosed down. It was harsh, but hardly unnecessary… it would be tragic indeed if the infection got into the camp now. Once they were cleaned up a bit, they were handed clothing and told to proceed to a quarantine tent for food, then assigned to cots, which most took to almost immediately after their stomachs were filled with warm, decent food.

For a time, all the survivors forgot about anything more important than the small comforts these people had given them. For a time, there was no way of knowing more about them while they rested away the weariness of their travels. Further interrogation would continue in the morning.

…

Morning brought a flurry of movement and a lot of noise when some of the soldiers came into the room took one of the survivors away. Over the shouting voices of his friends, one of the soldiers explained to them that he needed to be placed in further quarantine, in an area of the camp that was designed to house what the soldier referred to as 'carriers' as comfortably as they housed the immunes.

"I know you're confused and you're all probably scared and tired still… so perhaps we can start today with explanations. Please, all of you remain calm. We'll find you someone to talk to and sort things out." He explained, but a few of the survivors simply couldn't be placated. One was the tall, muscular man with the scars, the shaved head and the tattoos while the other was one of the younger girls, the one with pretty blue eyes and soft, wavy brown hair.

It ended up that the girl and the tall man were taken in to see one of the resident shrinks first, much to the dismay of the man. Named Francis, he proved to be so incredibly unruly that the shrink came close to asking for him to be sedated in one way or another, but Francis finally calmed down enough to listen to what the shrink had to say. She explained that his friend, named Darren, had the infection in his veins but wasn't actually showing signs of the infection outwardly. They called the people inflicted with this phenomena Carriers and she explained to Francis that they needed to have extra security to make sure the Carriers didn't spread the infection to those in the camp that weren't immune.

The girl, Ruby, had a harder time than Francis did accepting that her friend had the infection in his blood. She demanded to know how it possibly could have gotten there so vehemently that it caused the people running the camp to start asking deeper questions…

If Ruby had been just a little calmer, perhaps the truth would have never come out.

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

Thanks again for your patience, should have another chapter up explaining what the hell is going on shortly. XD


	2. Scene 2: Answer the Questions

Author's Note!!

See? Told you it wouldn't take long. Now, I'm sure some of you are wondering what the hell is going on… this is going to explain it.

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_Eleven days prior…_

…

Two weeks had passed since they had all come together under the same roof. Two weeks and Louis' condition seemed to be improving. He was sitting up and talking a bit, but was still too weak to walk and spent most of his time sleeping.

Despite his apparent recovery, Selene remained worried about him, whispering with Bill and Jan behind closed doors when they thought no one else noticed, sneaking out of her room in the middle of the night to check on Louis when everyone else was asleep.

The others weren't blind and they weren't stupid. They sensed something was going to happen, and it took two days after the two week mark for Selene, Jan and Bill to work up the courage or come up with a plan solid enough to go to the others and tell them what was going to have to happen.

"Listen up!" Bill's voice carried easily through the sitting room, where they had taken to eating their meals. Not a soul there dared ignore the old man when he started talking, and despite Francis' bad mood and Tori's previous statement that he was no longer going to take orders from Bill, every eye in the room turned to gaze at the former Green Beret. "We've got something to tell you."

"Sounds like bad news." Zoey said with a frown, Ishmael nodding in agreement with her.

"Worse than bad news." Selene replied sadly, prodding at her remaining food with a fork. "It's very bad news."

"Louis is deteriorating slowly. He may seem like he's recovering, but sometimes a dying person can seem like they're actually well before they suddenly kick the bucket." Bill explained. "We need to get him out of here, we need to get him to another camp where he can get the right treatment… where he can get BETTER. The last thing we want to do is lose him."

"And right now, we're losing him." Jan piped in, sighing gently.

Ruby put her fork down very slowly and carefully, Francis muttered a curse and got up, moving up the stairs to see if their colleague was alright.

"We can't." Zoey spluttered. "The last encampment is the reason Louis is like this in the first place!! The military is evil! EVIL!"

"Zoey, calm down." Bill said gently. "We're not going to a military encampment, not if we can help it. We're going to travel till we find one that's civilian…"

"How much luck do you figure we have?" Ruby said with much the same tone as Zoey. "The encampments are probably ALL military run, which means that-"

"Means that we can't go." Tori cut in, everyone in the room falling silent as they turned to look at him. Zoey looked down at Ishmael, who was frowning at Tori with confusion on his features. "Even if it's civilian run, you're going to a camp. A camp that will have security that will be designed to keep the infected out. And no matter how human I look and how nice I talk and how much you vouch for me and for Ishmael, they're NEVER going to let us in."

"But Ishmael's not contagious! They said that at the last camp!" Zoey cried.

"And if Ishmael's not, you might not be either!" Ruby protested, Bill clearing his throat.

"Tori's right." The old man said gently. "If we do this, and we have to do this sooner rather than later, Ish and Tori aren't going to be able to tag along with us."

"Then I'm staying here!" Zoey replied heatedly, her cheeks flushing and her eyes filling with tears. She stood up, Ishmael reaching up to tug on her arm, growling softly at her. "I'm staying here with them!"

"That might not be one of your choices." Selene said, glancing up at Zoey when the girl let out a derisive laugh.

"What, you all get to tell me what to do now? Did you change your minds about them?! You just want to fucking abandon them?!" She shouted, Bill's voice rising in volume as he answered her questions.

"Sit down and stop your bellyachin' Zoey! Before you jump all over us and get to the wrong conclusions, LISTEN! We're not changin' our minds about Ishmael and Itoria, they're as much a part of this damn crew as Francis and his fucking gun." Bill seized Zoey's shoulder and forced her to sit down, Zoey letting out a squeak of surprise and Ishmael shooting Bill a look that elicited a muttered apology from the old man. "Let us finish before you start. If we do find a civilian camp, it'll give us a chance to do something GOOD for this damn world and it's damn apocalypse."

"How?" Ruby asked, eyes wide.

"I think I have some theories about the infection… and a possible cure." Selene breathed, a smile touching her face.

…

_Present day…_

…

"You said your name is Selene."

"That's correct." She kept her voice as calm as she possibly could, tried to keep her fingers from twitching nervously on the table, tried to keep from tucking her hair out of her face when it didn't need to be.

"You seem nervous."

"This feels like an interrogation."

"It is a bit of one, but we're not going to torture you or anything like that."

"You never know with these places."

The man questioning her paused, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly. "Selene, what were you doing before you came here?"

"Came here how? Came here to America or here to your camp?" Selene kept her voice as unaccusing as she possibly could.

"Both, really. You're not from America?"

"You decided not to assume based on my accent. I'm pleased." Selene regarded her interrogator and tilted her head to the side. "I was flown in from my home land to help with researching the infection."

"Was that before the outbreak?"

"Yes."

"Hm… who were you working with?"

"A man by the name of Jeffries. He and I had corresponded before on projects and he was responsible for bringing me in."

"You two were colleagues then?"

Selene paused, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly.

"Ah…" The man's face softened and he nodded, making a note on the paper before him. "You two were more than that."

"For a time. We decided to end things because it was getting in the way of business." Selene said, lifting her chin.

"I'm not going to judge you. You and Jeffries, where were you working?"

"A military base camp. I'm not sure now where it was. We sort of lost our bearings."

"It's fine. We've been out of contact with the world. Before you came to our camp, then. What were you doing?"

"Travelling with my colleagues."

"Did something happen at the camp that made it so you had to leave?"

Here, Selene paused for a longer time, staring across at the questioner, who eventually frowned ever so slightly and shook his head.

"Selene? Answer the question please… what happened at the other camp that made it so you had to leave?"

"Jeffries."

…

"What was it that Jeffries did that caused you to have to leave the camp, Mr. Overbeck?"

Bill lit up his cigarette at a gesture from the interrogator in response to his questioning look, then made a soft noise at the back of his throat. "Jeffries was a bastard. Seemed nice as pie on the surface, but the second he got the tests back, he took off his mask and showed us his true colors."

"Tests?" The interrogator raised an eyebrow. "What tests?"

"Ishmael's tests." Bill remained completely calm as he talked. This was, after all, just the entrance he had been looking for.

"Ishmael?"

"Ishmael Parker. A Hunter we were travelling with."

The interrogator sat for a moment with a bewildered look on his face, and Bill let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

"A Hunter." The interrogator asked gently.

"Yeah. A Hunter. Named Ishmael Parker. They did tests on him when Jan brought him into the camp, found out that he was no longer contagious. It was then that Jeffries took a turn and decided he wanted Ishmael to go off to another place with him so they could use him to make a cure. Of course, we weren't about to-"

"No longer contagious. Forgive me for interrupting, but that's impossible." The interrogator said, Bill narrowing his eyes slowly. "We still have Carriers that have the disease, living and breeding and changing, in their veins, how could a fully changed Hunter POSSIBLY be no longer contagious?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that question, son." Bill replied, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Where is the Hunter now?" The interrogator asked carefully after a long moment of silence.

Bill looked at him and let out a chuckle. "I wouldn't tell you if you swore on your mother's grave, kid." He growled.

…

_Nine days prior…_

…

The news had sent Tori to his usual 'thinking' spot, which Ruby referred to as his 'brooding spot' since he only went there to do just that. She wasn't surprised to find him smoking a cigarette, hoping that Bill had at least given it to him and that he hadn't just taken it.

Last time Tori stole a cigarette, Bill had threatened grievous bodily harm, and the last thing they needed was for Tori to be maimed for being an idiot.

"This is a nice rock." Tori muttered, startling Ruby from her thoughts. She looked over at him with an eyebrow arched. "A nice rock. I'm going to miss standing on this rock with you."

"There will be other rocks." Ruby smirked, Tori glancing over at her.

"What happens if-"

"Tori, don't start." Ruby cut him off before he could get too far, Tori grunting in reply and looking back out at the water, smoke circling his head and heading up into the night sky.

"You never let me be a pessimist." He grumbled, Ruby letting out a laugh.

"That's because it's not necessary. I'm going away for a bit, I'm not dying." She moved a little closer and looped her arm around his, pulling herself close despite his cigarette and how much she hated them.

"I'm just… scared." Tori admitted, lapsing into a coughing fit. Ruby murmured words of comfort to him and rubbed his back, waiting for it to pass before helping him sit down on the rock. "I'm scared of what will happen at that camp. You heard the stories."

"Tori… we'll be back before you even have time to miss me." Ruby whispered, brushing his hair out of his face. Tori stared at her for a long moment in silence, then turned his eyes back to look at the sky.

"Lies." He rasped. "I miss you already."

"Don't miss me too hard, Itoria Levon Henry… we still have two days." Ruby whispered, Tori looking at her in surprise. He answered her wicked smile with a lopsided one of his own, casting his cigarette into the water of the lake.

…

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Author's Note!!

Thanks for tuning in! More to come soon…

And do any of you have any questions for my characters? It's something that my beloved Chibi-sama does and I've always been curious about what people would ask my characters. Any of my characters! Be them the ones from this story or the ones from my others!

Also, any questions for me? Want to know anything about me?


	3. Scene 3: Flashbacks

Author's Note!!

I'm sorry this is coming out as confusing guys. It will all be explained in time and will fall into a far less confusing pattern!

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Present Day…

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Carriers.

It was a word with ugly undertones, a word that screamed of negative things, that painted them all with colors that made people stop and stare.

Their side of the camp was comfortable, they were well taken care of, but Darren couldn't help the nagging feeling that they were somehow in a concentration camp, segregated from the rest of the survivors because of their blood.

Yes, they carried the infection with them, but weren't all the others immune? There couldn't possibly still be people without the infection who weren't immune!

Days were spent for the most part alone, with Darren sitting on his bed, staring out the small window of his tent, or pacing the length of it while thinking endlessly on what his friends might be doing.

Were they trying to escape? Were they trying to rescue him?

But why would they be doing either of these things, this wasn't a prison. This was a safe place… And he had to admit that it was safer than he might have imagined. Despite being civilians, these people were well armed and had a good system for keeping the infected out.

Darren wondered how long some of the other Carriers had been there. One of them, a woman, spent most of her time sitting on the bed in her tent, rocking back and forth and muttering to herself, tears streaming down her face and her hair hanging to her shoulders in thick, filthy clumps. Every so often, one of the civilian protectors would come to her and try to comfort her or get her to eat, or use a sponge and some water to clean her, and during these times, she didn't move or even respond.

He hoped that wouldn't be his fate.

The food here was decent. There were apparently regular raids into nearby formerly populated areas that would often prove fruitful, and their food supply was steady. Some people were attempting to grow small gardens in one of the tents they had rigged up like a green house, but Darren had been ushered off to the quarantine zone before he could really see how that was going.

The people on this side had found various ways of entertaining themselves, the ones who hadn't turned comatose at the news of what lurked inside them. There were plenty of decks of cards, sets of dice and other small games the others would play at the tables stationed outside the tents, their amusement areas. Other people on this side found solace in carnal contact with one another, and it Darren wasn't sure how long it would take him to get used to the noises that floated through the air at night.

…

Nine days prior…

…

It wasn't hard to tell when Ruby and Tori had been together. At this point in time, ever since the night of Aster's death, Darren had been able to tell. It was the way Ruby avoided people's gazes, it was the way Tori seemed far more relaxed, carried himself with an almost relieved air about him.

When Darren found himself overcome with jealousy seeing them that way, he couldn't pin down which half of the couple he was jealous of, and the thought was even more agonizing.

He had sat back in the past and watched them, wondered to himself what it was that kept them together. They fought a lot, Tori and Ruby did, but it seemed to only fan the flames of their feelings for one another higher.

Darren asked himself what Ruby saw in Tori…

It was obvious what she saw. It was the same thing that Darren saw in him.

Tori was handsome, beautiful even. Tori was exotic, exciting, something different from everything else out there. Even the rasp in his voice lent more to his attractiveness, and there was no question that Tori was passionate in most things that he did. Tori liked poetry and fine literature, he often quoted famous books and people. He was intelligent…

There was the bad boy aspect as well, the leather coat, the long hair and the cigarette. The Smoker was a very pretty picture despite all his short comings.

So Darren then turned and asked himself what a man like Tori would see in a girl like Ruby.

Again, it was far too obvious what he saw.

Ruby was sweet, emotional without being too much so. She had the prettiest blue eyes, and no matter how filthy she got, you could tell her hair was soft. She was patient for putting up with all the things that Tori put her through and no matter how many times he fell, she would always pick him back up.

Loyal. Ruby was loyal.

She would put her foot down if someone was acting up, wouldn't take anyone's bullshit, and despite being tough as nails, she was undeniably a woman. Everyday, her confidence grew in leaps and bounds.

Together, the two of them would kill dragons, cure the infection and solve the world's hunger problem, Darren was sure.

Putting a hand to his head, the human man turned away from the couple as they came inside, Ruby immediately excusing herself to head upstairs and take a shower. Tori sat down in a chair at the table with a sigh and a smile on his face, Darren glancing over his shoulder at the Smoker briefly.

Surrounded by couples, by people who didn't quite make a scene but didn't quite try to hide their affection, why was it Tori and Ruby that bothered him the most?

Aster's name, coming to him from now distant memories and nightmares, made his heart begin to race and Darren drew in a breath, looking back out the window.

Of course it came back to Aster. He had travelled with Aster for some time after the Smoker and the evil bitch had parted ways, and he had been treated to many stories after they had reunited. Aster told him what it was like, being with Tori.

Palms sweating, heart beating a little faster, Darren glanced at the Smoker's reflection in the window, seeing that he was now leaning back in his chair and looking at the ceiling, swinging an oven mitt he had found on the counter around his finger with a grin that bared sharp teeth.

His own voice joined with Aster's in his head, recounting those old conversations, his own voice asking a question that surfaced again now. His voice, Darren's voice, asking the monster four words that made familiar, unwelcome butterflies erupt in his stomach.

_"How does it feel?"_

…

Present day…

…

"Darren, how long have you known the crew you came in with?"

"Close to a month, I think."

"I'm going to ask you some questions, just let me know if you feel uncomfortable answering them, alright?"

"R-right."

"When did you first come in contact with the infected? The first time you might have contracted the infection yourself?"

"I-I don't remember. It's been awhile…"

"You don't have to be nervous, Darren, we're not going to hurt you…"

…

The party met together that night in their tent house, met to share information and talk about what had happened and what they had learned. Zoey seemed to be coping better than Ruby, who was distracted and distant the whole time they were there.

"How's Louis?" Bill asked almost immediately upon Selene's arrival. The woman smiled at him and nodded.

"He's going to be fine. The medical personnel they have here are professionals. One of them worked in the hospital before the disaster." Selene explained, sitting next to Ruby and rubbing the girl's shoulder gently.

"Any news on Darren at all?" Tristan asked. He actually missed the tall, dark haired young man with the high voice despite his misgivings upon first meeting him. Darren had proved himself to be a friend to all of them and Tristan worried that his friend was being tortured or experimented on in the quarantine zone.

"No news. Though, I did learn a little more about the Carriers while I was being interrogated. They allowed me to ask some questions of my own when they found out what I hoped to do here." Selene took out a small notebook where she was keeping her research, tucking her hair behind her ear. "The Carriers have the infection in their veins, living and active. They're different from the actual infected because the fever isn't slowly killing the infection and forcing them to find other means to keep it alive. That's why the infected attack people and even eat them. They're searching for fuel to feed the fire, so to speak."

"So the Carriers are actually more dangerous than the infected are." Jan murmured quietly. The smoke from her cigarette and Bill's curled under the low roof of the tent, but by now they were all used to it and didn't complain. Not even Ruby, her blue eyes distant.

"They are. If we're going to make a cure, we have to make it for the Carriers, not the actual infected." Selene looked down at the book again. "If I'm right, which I'm even more sure now than I was before, the people who have already turned can't be cured. However, the Carriers can be."

"How long do you need?" Bill growled. "I want to get back sooner rather than later. And if Louis is recovering, I want to be gone when he's finished doing so."

Selene nodded and smiled. "I still need time. It might take days, it might take weeks. It all depends on how things go. I'll keep you all briefed on my findings, and if we're lucky, we'll have a cure in the works and be on our way back to the boys in no time."

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Author's Note!!

Mysterious? Why yes, yes it is! But that's how the chapter ends and it's time for Q&A!!

**Tom T. Thomson: **The reason I deleted the other story is because it was the reason for my block in the first place. I guess when someone REALLY hates their work, they find it hard to actually keep writing with the hated work sitting there staring in their face! I'm glad you like this, and I promise to keep updating till it's done.

**Jonus63** asked: Does Tori have fangs and are they as sharp as Ishmael's?

_Tori: Hrm. I hate that the ankle biter is better at biting than I am, but yeah, I've got fangs. My teeth got sharper after I got infected._

**Moniter Head XP**: Thanks so much for the compliments, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy! As for your question, whether or not any of the L4D crew, infected or otherwise, will be showing up… we'll have to wait and see! There is a good chance the infected will be showing up. Steve did, after all, show both Charger and Spitter tendencies, as well as Screamer tendencies and those were cut from the game completely!

**Squeaky**: Do I intend to continue A Very 'Special' Christmas? Yes, of course! It's the story of Ishmael's past, after all and I couldn't leave my readers in the lurch after the end of that chapter, could I?

_Tori: Hehe… squeaky says I'm sexy._

As well, the reason Tori was able to infect Ashley but not Ruby is because Ashley wasn't immune and Ruby is. Also, at that point in time, when Tori kissed Ashley and turned her, the infection was still burning very strongly in him. Not so much now! But we'll get to that more as this story continues!

**Blindfirekiller**: Yes! I'm back! And with a new story, though it's more a rewrite than something new.

Thanks everyone for your continued support and keep the questions coming! ^.^


	4. Scene 4: How Does it Feel?

Author's Note:

It's been forever and I almost gave up writing fan fiction altogether with the novel I've been working on, but here I am! I've been rping with Chibi-sama again and have rekindled my love for my Left 4 Dead characters!

Here's the next long awaited chapter of Better Off.

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Present Day

…

"There was a fight. At the house where we were staying. One of our number set off a fire alarm and there was a horde that came." Darren rubbed his arms, looking up at the ceiling. He could almost still feel the bite marks that had graced his arms and his neck from that fight, knowing now that they actually did more harm than he realized.

"You were attacked by the infected then?"

"Then, and before. But during that fight, there was a bit of an… um… an incident with one of the members of our party. The others got distracted, I was fighting on my own. I got bitten."

"Did you feel ill at all after that?"

"N-no. Just angry. Because of what was happening." Darren breathed out slowly, looking across at the interrogator.

"What WAS happening, if you don't mind me asking?"

At this Darren paused for a long moment in silence, his eyes lowering as he pondered how to answer the question. If he were to be honest, the whole story about Aster would come out, the story about Tori and Ruby. He didn't know if he had it in him right now to try and lie.

Taking a deep breath, Darren began to talk, the dam he had been attempting to build up after what happened before they left the cabin beginning to crumble once more.

…

Nine Days Prior

…

"What?" Tori asked, blinking and looking over at the human man.

Darren closed his eyes a little more tightly, wondering what might have come over him. How could he be asking this now? "How… does it feel?" He repeated in breathless tones, clenching his hands into fists.

"Er, I heard you the first time." Tori coughed, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back and stood. "I'm asking what you mean by it. There could be a lot of 'it's you're asking about."

Darren forced himself to breathe, beginning to grow light headed. He turned away from the window to face the taller male, who had his arms crossed and one graceful brow arched in confusion at the state Darren was currently in. Words flew around in his head, words that crashed together and disappeared, leaving him speechless for a moment as he gazed up and into Itoria's amber eyes.

"Being infected?" Tori asked, smiling ever so slightly. "Smoking? Knowing that I'm going to be left here alone? Not knowing when I'm going to see you guys again?"

"B-being…" Darren leaned away from the Smoker, braced himself against the counter with a white knuckled grip just to keep himself from falling down. "Um…"

"If you want to know what it's like being infected, I'm not really sure what to tell you." Tori mused, rubbing his chin with one hand and making a soft noise at the back of his throat. "I have headaches a lot from the fever, I'm always warm unless I'm really cold. My chest burns… I'm always in pain, but my pain tolerance is a hell of a lot higher. I get angry easily. Sometimes it just builds up inside me till I feel like I'm going to explode." He looked back down at Darren, who was staring at him with a look of disbelief in his face. "Huh… no pity. I'm surprised."

"I wouldn't… I'm not going to… Tori, that's not what I meant." Darren reached up and pressed his face into one hand.

"Oh." Tori frowned. "Then… what did you-"

"How does it feel when you kiss someone? How does it feel… being with someone?"

The silence in the kitchen as they stood there was deafening, Darren's legs trembling with the effort of keeping him on his feet. Tori stared at Darren with an expression of shock on his face that slowly dissolved into something guarded and unreadable.

Then he seemed to be looking at Darren with new eyes, as if seeing him for the first time. He stared at the human as his lips pulled slowly into a tight line, Darren's heart beginning to sink.

…

Present Day

…

"Hey."

Ruby looked over with a startled expression when Tristan moved to stand beside her, a smile on his face.

"Hey." She murmured in reply, returning her gaze to the sky.

"You're getting' more distant every day, y'know?" Tristan sipped from the can of soda he had snagged from one of the food tents, also looking towards the sky.

"Do you blame me?"

"Maybe a little. It's a bummer not talkin' with ya like I used to."

"I just have a lot on my mind."

"The stuff with Darren?" When he asked the question, Ruby looked over at him sharply, and he quickly smiled. "And Tori, too. Back there, with just Ish for company?"

"No offense, Tristan, but I'm really not in the talking mood."

"Yeah… what's new these days?" Tristan didn't mean to sound so bitter about it, falling silent and gazing back up at the sky. Ruby didn't say anything in response, attempting to ignore him while she drowned herself once again in her own thoughts.

He was beginning to feel a little abandoned even if he was still with most of the crew. Francis was spending more and more time with Bill and Zoey and less time with him even though he felt the two had become fast friends shortly after meeting. Ruby spent all her time brooding, Jan and Bill were taken with one another and working all the time to figure out what they were going to do here, and Darren was in another part of the camp altogether.

He never thought being with all the others would make him feel so incredibly lonely.

"I'm sorry. You must feel I'm being awfully selfish." Ruby said, her voice breaking him from his thoughts. He glanced over at her, startled to see the tears spilling down her cheeks. "It's not like I'm the only one suffering from all of this."

"Yeah…" Tristan scuffed one foot against the ground, turning his soda can in his hands. "But you got more at suffer from seein' as your lover's miles away."

"That's no excuse for my behavior." She reached up and rubbed at her eyes, sighing shortly. "I just… there were some things that happened before we left and now I wonder if I made a terrible mistake."

"What kinda mistake?" Tristan frowned, Ruby looking over to meet his gaze. "Not with Tori."

"No…" Ruby shook her head, rubbing her arms lightly before turning her gaze away from him. "Not with Tori. With ever insisting we stay with you guys in the first place."

…

…

…

Author's Note!

Short but sweet, hopefully and hey, it's an update! There will be more to come in the future, hopefully not as long in the future as this one.

_Squeaky Said: "so now a question to ruby...about tori (yeah, he's my favorite). so how do those kisses work anyway? that tongue has gotta be hella long,just where does it go? on the bright side, your sex life would be pretty sweet…"_

_Tori: I've been threatened with grievous bodily harm if I answer that question… I'm so very sorry. I like my limbs right where they are._

_USWeasilgirl asks: we dont get to see zoey and ishmael together before zoey departs?_

_Me: OF COURSE YOU DO! I know the way I'm writing the story is sorta weird, but don't worry. We'll get to see everything happening between Zoey and Ish before they leave too!_


	5. Scene 5: Unwelcome

Author's Note:

What's this? o.o An update? Could it be? Hello! Is anyone even still out there?

…

…

…

…

Present Day

…

Tristan stared at her, so Ruby averted her eyes. She didn't know if she could look at him while he was wearing that accusing, affronted, confused expression.

"... is that how it is?" The young man asked quietly, Ruby swallowing past the lump in her throat and looking up at the stars. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"I didn't... not until recently. Not until right before we left." Ruby replied softly, tears still falling from her eyes. "Not until Darren-"

An alarm sounded, cutting off her words and making both of them jump. A chill moved swiftly over Ruby's skin, both she and Tristan backing towards the tent they were staying in while looking around them in confusion.

"Infected?" Tristan asked, Ruby nodding and turning to run to the others.

…

Nine Days Prior

…

"That..." Came the low growl of Tori's reply, Darren swallowing heavily and looking up at him. After a second of silence, the Smoker's mouth twisted into a dark grin that bared sharp teeth. He rasped out a laugh and leaned forward until they could have been breathing the same breath. "That is something I don't think you'll ever know."

Darren met his eyes and didn't look away. "It was just a question." He whispered, Tori's eyebrows arching again.

"Oh?" The other male queried, inhaling deeply and leaning back. "That's what your mouth is saying... the rest of you tells a different story."

Darren tensed, still not daring to move his eyes. He had forgotten... the Infected could smell fear, they could smell anger. They could smell emotions.

"It was just a question." He repeated, stepping back a little. His hips connected with the counter behind him and Tori tilted his head to the side. The human couldn't remember ever feeling more like a cornered animal. A long, tense moment passed, then Tori made a soft noise of disgust and turned to go. "We're all going to die, you know? Eventually... there's no way we can hold out forever. The rest of the world is lost. This tiny pocket only survives because we coexist."

"Fuck that." Tori snarled, looking over with eyes flashing.

"Couldn't you consider it a dying wish?" Darren lowered his eyes at last, clenching his hands into fists.

"You selfish little prick." Heavy footsteps moved towards him, Darren finding one clawed hand gathering the front of his shirt and feeling himself being dragged and slammed into the wall. "What sort of person do you think I am?!"

"A slave to your instincts, just like the rest of us! Even more than the rest of us, actually, considering what's boiling inside you." Darren felt his lip quiver, and when he met Tori's eyes again, they had become cloudy and dark.

"What sort of a test is this, Darren?" Tori breathed, not loosening his grip.

"It's not a test." The human frowned. "You're living in your cloud of bliss while the world ends around you. It's not fair."

"So this is jealousy?" Tori barked out a laugh. "You're jealous of her?"

"Of you both. Of Ishmael and Zoey. Jan and Bill." Darren felt the dam inside him start to overflow. He hadn't even realized how deep it ran until he started this confrontation. "This is the apocalypse, Itoria."

…

Present Day

…

It wasn't the pacing that got to him, it was the incessant growling. The pacing he could deal with. It had gotten to the point where Tori thought he would go mad if he had to suffer through even one more second of the sound issuing forth from throat of the thing that shared the house with him. Of course, he reminded himself, he was already a little mad, wasn't he?

Getting up, he moved to where Ishmael was pacing by the door, hauling the much smaller Infected into the air by the back of his shirt. "Stop." He said firmly in what was his best attempt at the 'kid and dog voice.' He was rewarded with brief silence, then silvery-grey eyes turned to him with a pleading look and Ishmael warbled his displeasure. Sighing heavily, Tori put him down. "I wish you were more one for conversation. Or that we had a working radio." The taller Infected lamented.

Ishmael huffed and moved over to the chair where Tori was sitting, crouching next to it and looking towards the door.

They both watched the door for some time, Tori eventually reaching up to put his hand over his eyes. "Fuuuuuck." He groaned. "I'm going stir-crazy in here."

Ishmael nodded in agreement, looking up at him. "_What I wouldn't give for a horde._" He said, Tori grunting affirmation before blinking in surprise and sitting up straighter. He looked down at the Hunter, who looked back at him innocently.

"... oh." Tori murmured, leaning back again. "Uh. Right."

The Infected had their own language. To the uninfected, it sounded like growling, coughing, gasping, sobbing... whatever noises it was that the one speaking it could make. To Tori's ears, it sounded like Ishmael speaking perfectly plain English.

He had completely forgotten about it, having been surrounded by humans for so long.

The Hunter sniffed his way across the room and paused in front of the door, glancing back over his shoulder. "C'mere." He growled, Tori getting to his feet and obeying. "What do you smell?"

"... Humans." Tori scratched his head, inhaling a little more deeply. "I smell the others. I smell... I smell..." Looking down, the Smoker gave Ishmael a confused look. "Ducky?"

Ishmael's expression was blank, so Tori sighed and reached down to open the door. It wasn't until the door opened that he smelled what the Hunter had, closing the door with a snap and looking down with wide eyes.

"Oh shit. Humans." He hissed, Ishmael letting out a soft growl. "What do we do?"

…

…

…

…

…

So here's my note for after the chapter concludes, and I'm sorry it's so short. It's been a loooong time since I visited these characters and it seems I've grown disillusioned with some of them. I will have to see what to do in the future...

First off, thank you so much, all of you, for the reviews. There was only one user question! Well, one that pertains to the story itself.

CrazyChibi asked,_ If Tori and Sion played Twister together, who would win?_

Tori: That depends. How bendy is he? Cause, y'know... I'm pretty flexible.


	6. Scene 6: Selene's Decision

Author's Note: I suppose I ought to continue this while I'm still in the groove?

Let's see if we can't get some clarification!

This whole chapter happens present day. I'll indicate in the author's notes if the chapter happens in the past. It'll make it easier than breaking everything up into sections.

…

…

…

Present Day

…

Darren heard the alarms start going off, glancing past the civilian militia member who was questioning him. "Looks like that's the end of the interrogation." He murmured, receiving a rather heated look in response.

"Don't set your Doomsday Clock." He was told. "Go back to your tent and hunker down. We'll deal with the Infected."

He did was instructed, returning to the tent that had been assigned to him and sitting on his cot. He listened to the distant sounds of fighting and wondered briefly what his friends were doing. No doubt some of them would insist on joining the fight... the need for revenge on the bastards who had ruined all their lives ran deep in him as well.

He was waiting for about five minutes, minutes that stretched on like hours when a familiar figure slipped into the tent and made its way to his side. He stared for a moment more, wondering if it was perhaps a ghost, but when the figure smiled and spoke, he realized this was actually happening.

"I don't have long." Selene said in a hushed voice. "I just wanted to come and see if you were alright."

"Of course." He stated, managing a bare hint of a smile. "They take good care of us here."

"... I'm still working on the cure." She confirmed, glancing over her shoulder. "I don't have much to go on right now, but when I find out more, I'll come back."

"Kay. Hey... how are the others?" He asked as she got up to go. She glanced over her shoulder at him, Darren seeing a flash of something guarded in her eyes. Selene slipped her hands into her pockets, a gesture she often made when she was uncomfortable... or when she was lying.

"They're fine." She said simply, giving him a genuine smile. "They'll be fine."

Then she was gone and it was just Darren in the tent with the woman who shared it with him, the one who spent all her time with her head in her hands, the one who was now covering her ears while her haunted eyes stared at the ground, seeing nothing.

They'll be fine, Selene had said. That, at least, hadn't been a lie. Darren wondered if something had happened... but wouldn't they have heard by now if something had?

The alarms were still going off. Gunfire still sounded in the distance.

It was no use staying in here. Even if he couldn't fight, Darren didn't feel right sitting in a tent and waiting for something to go wrong. So he got up and walked out, joined the other Carriers who were standing on the grass and staring at the walls surrounding the camp.

There was a woman with a pad of paper, scribbling something on it fiercely. Darren regarded her with a curious expression before turning back to watch the walls, waiting in vain to see something other than their whitewashed blankness.

The woman, a slender, dark skinned girl who couldn't have been any older than 25 unless she was one of those people who looked younger than she was, tore the paper from the pad and crumpled it up. The action wasn't one of frustration. In fact, a determined light gleamed in her eyes and she strode forward to the wall.

"What is she doing?" He wondered aloud, the answer he got without actually expecting one startling him enough to make him jump.

"Tryin' to find a way out." A deep, heavily accented voice informed him, a heavyset man moving to stand next to him. "She's been throwin' those things ovah the wall fo' days now. I don't have the heart to tell her it's not gonna work."

"Who is she hoping will pick it up?" Darren asked with a frown, turning fully to face the other male. He too was dark of skin, a hair or two taller than Darren was, his face set in a mask of barely disguised pain and defeat. He wore the word 'Coach' on his shirt, the letters looking as though there were taken from a different garment and painstakingly sewn onto the one he now wore. "It's just the Infected out there."

"There were two more o' us. I think Baby Girl there's hopin' they migh' still straggle in." The man reached up and rubbed his hand over his scalp. It had been shaved recently, the stubble was short enough to indicate.

Darren didn't bother asking what the odds were of that happening. There were some things you just didn't need to know.

The woman returned, breathing out a slow sigh as she pulled up beside the bigger man, sparing Darren a glance. "Never give up." She murmured, nodding as if to reassure herself.

Darren and the bigger man exchanged a look, neither of them speaking and all three of them waiting for the sirens to stop blaring.

…

…

…

The spotlights didn't stop the Infected, but it showed the militia where to shoot. There were three of them stationed up on the high walls.

The light didn't bother the Infected, but they didn't need it to see.

The rock that sailed through the air, narrowly missing one of the makeshift towers that held snipers, hit home, crashing into one of the huge spotlights with a wrenching of metal and a shower of sparks.

The bellow that followed it made the already frenzied action a little more intense.

Tanks didn't care about walls. And if the Tank broke through theirs, it was going to be messy.

…

…

…

Selene rubbed her hand over her face, moving into the mess hall with a heavy sigh. One of the cooks was a former scientist himself and had been helping Selene in her efforts... Business was what brought her here tonight. Even when people were fighting outside, her business was never done.

"Just the lady I was hoping to see." It was said in a grim tone, Selene gazing up at her contact Thomas with an equally grim expression. "I take it you got results?"

"No inconclusive tests this time." She confirmed. "I just... don't know how to broach the subject with the others."

"That's the problem with making friends in the time of the Apocalypse, my dear." Thomas smiled sadly. "How many of them are over-"

"Just the one." Selene interrupted, looking away. "Just Darren. I went to see him."

"The guards won't like that." Thomas mused.

"They don't know. They're not going to." Selene gave him a hard look, pushing her hands into her pockets again. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"The meals are put in different places. Delivered separately." Thomas held out a hand to her, and Selene hesitated. "I promise, it'll be fast."

"For your sake, I hope you're right." She murmured softly, pulling her hand from her pocket and placing something on his palm.

"In the end, you'll know you've done the right thing." Thomas reassured her, Selene's eyes burning with tears as she turned away. "How's your friend... the one who got shot?"

"Healing." Selene replied tersely. "He's better than he has been since it happened. But he still can't be moved."

"... We can hold off a few more days, then." Thomas nodded, Selene moving away from him. "I'm not going to tell you when I do it."

"That might be for the best. I have to go... tend the wounded." Selene swiped her sleeve over her cheeks to soak up the tears that had fallen.

"Something tells me this isn't the worst decision you've ever made." Thomas observed, Selene's shoulders hunching. She didn't reply, moving as quickly as she dared across the kitchens and escaping into the night air.

It should have smelled fresh, sweet even... but tonight it just smelled like blood.

…

…

…

"TAKE IT DOWN TAKE IT DOWN!" Someone screamed from the wall, the sudden blast of concentrated gunfire a familiar sound to the survivors.

Bill and Zoey waited below, staring up at the wall while wearing nearly identical expressions of frustration. Both of them wanted to help... neither of them were allowed to.

"Do you think-" Zoey began, Bill hushing her and attempting to listen past the firing guns for some sign that they were in danger standing so close to the wall.

There was the tell tale groan and howl of a dying Tank, the cries that came from the wall at once jubilant, adrenaline fueled and terried. The gunfire continued...

"Must be quite the horde." Bill observed for Zoey's ears only. "We should go back to the others and wait it out."

"But-" Zoey began again, Bill shaking his head at her. She growled in aggravation, following him as he moved back towards the tent. "Stop treating me like a child, Bill. You know I'm not."

"I'm not treating you like a child, Zoey. Right now, I'm treating you like a soldier. So keep your mouth shut." Bill grunted, pushing through a crowd of observers and heading for what was meant to be home. The others were clustered outside, Francis' expression one of relief as they came into view. "Seems to be winding down."

"Thank goodness." Jan breathed a sigh, moving to take Bill's hand. Tristan offered Zoey a nod as she stormed past him, and Ruby gave the other woman's arm a reassuring pat.

"Where's Selene?" Bill asked, all of them heading into the tent.

"She said she would be meeting us tonight. Maybe because of the attack, she's been delayed." Ruby explained, sitting on a cot.

"I hope she has good news." Zoey grumbled, folding her arms.

"Me too. I'm tired o' this place." Francis grumbled in a similar fashion, sitting with his back against one of the cots. "And I miss our little ankle biter."

Selene came in after a few minutes, eyes still red and face guarded. She moved to stand in front of Bill, who gestured to the others in the room. They situated themselves so they could all see and hear her. She had said she had news...

"I got some of the test results I had been hoping for." She started, a glimmer of hope appearing on their faces. Her voice had a waver to it, leftovers of her tears. "But it's not... it wasn't all I had been hoping for. I haven't been able to find a cure, because there is no cure."

"No cure?" Zoey murmured. "But I thought you said you could find one."

"I tried, Zoey, I really did." Selene's eyes welled up again. "I did find out... I was right about the Infected. It had to do with the fevers."

"What about them?" Bill asked, Selene reaching up to wipe her eyes.

"The fevers are consuming the infection inside them. Every time they boil over, go into a rage, that fever burns hot enough to kill the infection a little." Selene explained in a thick voice. "So every time Ishmael and Tori lose their tempers, it makes them a little better. The same goes for all the rest of the infected. And I have a theory about Tori and Ishmael too."

"Go on." Jan said, offering Selene a tissue. The younger woman accepted it with a murmured thanks, continuing.

"I think their fever wasn't as hot in the beginning, which is why they're different from the others. It stands to reason that there are other infected out there too, ones who aren't quite as feral. Ones who can speak like Tori and Ishmael can."

"So... you're saying that if we LET them get angry, they'll eventually be cured?" Zoey asked, frowning. "That sounds like a really bad plan."

"We can only do as much as nature allows." Selene said softly in return, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"So what about the Carriers?" Ruby asked, Selene glancing at her with a defeated expression. "If there's no cure, and they don't have the fever the way the Infected do-"

"There's nothing we can do to help them. The infection won't manifest the same way, not that we've seen." Selene toyed with the tissue in her hand, lowering her eyes. "There's... really nothing at all we can do."

"Then they just get to stay in quarantine forever?" Zoey got to her feet as Ruby spoke, recognizing the burning tone of her voice and the rage flashing in her eyes. "You've condemned them all?"

"There's nothing-"

"Stop saying that!" Ruby shouted, Zoey taking her arm. "Stop talking like there's no hope! You said you knew how to find a cure!"

"What about inducing fevers in them?" Jan suggested, Selene looking at her in surprise. "Couldn't that possibly help?"

"A fever of the intensity needed to kill off the infection would fry their brains. It would kill them." Selene said, shaking her head. "I explored that possibility..."

"But could it work?" Zoey asked, hand still on Ruby's arm.

Selene's shoulders slumped and she looked down again. "It... it could. But if we make them all sick with fevers and nothing happens..."

"Then at least we tried." Jan concluded. Selene nodded slowly, looking up at the older woman.

"I... I did something awful." She confessed, the others looking at one another. "I gave something to one of the chefs here, something to put in their food. I didn't think there was any hope-"

"What?!" Zoey and Ruby cried together, Bill's mouth pulling into a thin line.

"Fuckin' scientists." Francis muttered.

Tristan looked pained, hands clenching into fists. Jan shook her head and took Selene's shoulders in her hands.

"You go to him and you stop him. Do you understand me?" The older woman hissed. "There might still be time if you hurry."

…

…

…

And that's Chapter 6. Hope you guys enjoyed it!


	7. Scene 7: Whispers in the Dark

Author's Note:

The silence suggests no.

This chapter takes place before the Survivors leave for the camp.

…

…

…

"I don't want him to die." The whisper in the dark made Ishmael raise his head. His female was sitting at the edge of the bed they now shared, her knees hugged to her bare chest and her forehead resting against them.

Some time ago, the Hunter wouldn't have understood the sentiment. Ever since finding this group, this family, though, he understood altogether too well how Zoey felt.

Ishmael also didn't want Louis to die. But there was something else under the female's words. A 'but' in there somewhere he felt she didn't even need to voice.

Reaching out, he placed one too warm hand on her back, letting out a soft noise in an effort to reassure her. She lifted her head but didn't look at him, her damp blue eyes fixed on the far wall.

"I don't want to go." She said with some effort, her shoulders beginning to shake. Ishmael moved to wrap his arms around her, rubbing his cheek against her skin and sighing.

They stayed like that for some time, the Hunter holding the human in the dark where the silence was penetrated by her soft weeping. When Zoey finally gave a shuddering sigh and looked at him, meeting his silver-grey eyes, Ishmael offered her a smile.

"I can't shake the feeling something terrible is going to happen." She whispered to him, Ishmael tilting his head to the side. "It's not... not like I feel I'm not going to see you again. Nothing like that. It's just... something about this plan feels wrong."

"Zoey." Ishmael stated clearly, his female looking at him, startled. "Nnnooo... go hnnwwway."

"I have to. They'll never make it without me."

Ishmael didn't think that was necessarily true. Zoey was a good shot, yes, but Francis and his shotgun weren't to be trifled with, and from what he remembered hearing, Darren was one hell of a sniper. But there was solidarity to be taken into account.

Together, these humans were unstoppable.

…

…

…

Someone had once told him to never go to bed angry. Apparently it shortened your life. If this was true, Darren felt like laughing. After all, his life had probably been shortened drastically not only by the zombies, but by the Smoker under their roof. He could feel his time ticking down faster than ever...

It wasn't completely uncalled for that he couldn't sleep that night. That he lay awake in the darkness, waiting. Sleeplessness went hand in hand with the current situation, and even more so now...

It took longer than he had expected, but when the door did open, Darren didn't move. Feigning sleep would be useless considering the Smoker could probably tell he was awake.

A chair creaked as someone settled into it, then there was silence but for slightly rasping breath and what sounded like the murmur of voices from down the hall. Darren raised his head after a time and looked over to see Tori sitting in the chair at the end of the bed. Glowing amber eyes fixed on him, an eerie sight in the darkness.

"Don't get too excited." The whisper was considerably clearer than one might have expected. "I just came to talk."

"So talk." Darren replied, sitting up and facing the other male. "You gave me the impression that you were done talking earlier."

"You gave me some time to think." There was a flash of white... Tori's teeth as he smiled. There was no amusement, no kindness in that smile. "Tell me Darren... do you want to know how Aster died?"

…

…

…

There was a terrified squeal from somewhere on their floor, one that cut off rather abruptly. Both Zoey and Ishmael froze in place, their eyes meeting, and it was Zoey that moved first to find her clothing in a panicked way. A growl rose from Ishmael's throat, the Hunter leaping off the bed and moving to the door.

"Stop." Zoey snapped, Ishmael looking over in time for his pants to be tossed into his face. "Get dressed first. Decency, remember?"

It was one of those lessons they had been trying to teach him for some time. Zoey's expression and tone of voice suggested that he wasn't learning that one very well.

Ishmael pulled the pants on and then opened the door, Zoey following him into the hallway silently.

While Zoey couldn't hear it, Ishmael could make out a whispering voice coming from Darren's room. He could also smell a quivering sort of fear and a simmering anger that brought with it a scent akin to forest fires.

Reaching up, he tugged on Zoey's sleeve, whispering the name of their Smoker companion. Zoey's eyes widened as she looked down at him, then at the door to Darren's room. The fear in her eyes was obvious.

Had Tori finally snapped? Had the Infection won?

…

…

…

"Shhh." Tori whispered almost lovingly as he clapped his hand over Darren's mouth. The Smoker had moved so suddenly, Darren was sure Tori was going to kill him before he knew what was going on. "Do you want to wake everyone? This is a private conversation." The taller male hissed, glowing eyes burning a little brighter as their color dimmed.

Darren whimpered behind the hand over his mouth, and Tori moved it away to allow him to speak.

"Are you going to kill me?" The human whispered, Tori letting out a low chuckle.

"That's the only kiss you'd ever get from me now, Darren. A kiss of death. Cause that's how it happened." The Smoker rasped in return, still smiling.

"What?" Darren's eyes widened and he shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"We went back to the beginning, she and I." Tori's voice grew softer, but in the encompassing silence of the house, it was easy to hear him. "Back to when we met. And when I kissed her, I used the... gift the Infection gave me. I choked her to death... held her in my arms and watched the light in her eyes go out."

A chill deeper than any he had felt before surged through him, Darren's breath turning quick.

"'A person in that position is God.' Do you agree with that, Darren?" Tori came back to the here and now, fixing his eyes on the human again while the smile on his face faded. "Ted Bundy felt that way... He killed people for fun."

Standing up straighter and dragging his claws through his long hair, Tori closed his eyes. Darren watched him as he continued speaking, the chill only deepening. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to see you as more than an insect, to be crushed beneath my boot? Even if I'm different, I'm still one of them. Still a monster. And if it weren't for her, for Ruby, I would still be killing people for fun. Like dear old Ted." Those eyes opened again and Darren found when he met them, he couldn't look away. "You. Zoey. Bill and Jan... This is the apocalypse, after all."

"What the fuck do you want me to say? Sorry?" Darren hissed, his eyes stinging.

"I don't want you to say anything." Tori snarled, teeth bared. "I want you to understand... Ruby gives me hope. And hope is the ONLY thing we have left that separates us from the monsters. All of us. If I were to oblige you in your... curiosity, it would break Ruby's heart. She would leave despite my attempts to explain. And that would mean the loss of my hope. What would I be then? Just another zombie." Exhaling slowly, Tori reached down and closed one of his hands over Darren's pale neck, one claw caressing the side of it. The human didn't dare move. "If you lose that hope, you filthy piece of garbage, you're no better than the Infected. If you lose hope Darren, you'll start doing it too. You'll start killing people because you can. Because... why not? We're all going to die in the end, right?"

He leaned down again until Darren could feel Tori's breath on his face. "If you lose hope, you're going to become one of the monsters. So enough of this... doomsday stuff. Find your hope again, you soul sucking piece of shit."

…

…

…

Zoey gestured to the door but Ishmael shook his head. It didn't seem like anything more than talking was going on. If that changed, he'd go in and tell his female to wait here. He didn't want her to have to face the wrath of Tori if the Smoker took over.

She sighed heavily and folded her arms, scowling at him before turning to look at the door with worry in her expression.

The door opened, startling them both, and Zoey moved until she was standing behind Ishmael. Tori paused, then closed the door and stood staring at both of them for some time. His expression went from murderous to ashamed, then shifted to something unreadable in the darkness.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, Zoey taking in a breath and putting one hand on Ishmael's shoulder.

"We heard a noise." She said, sounding a little breathless. "We came to investigate."

"It was nothing." Tori growled, lowering his eyes. "You should get some rest... I guess we have to pack tomorrow."

The Smoker headed back to his own room, Zoey watching him depart and Ishmael making a soft, warbling sound of distress.

…

…

…

Author's Note:

A little dry, yes, but it's still an update! Hurray!


	8. Scene 8: Strangers

Author's Note:

Here, have another one.

Chapter takes place in the present!

…

…

…

"Well, what's it look like?"

"Looks like the house is occupied."

"Well shit. What should we do?"

"The same thing we always do. Shoot the shit out of the zombies if there are any. And if it's people..."

"Yeah?"

"We knock politely and ask if we can stay for awhile. Or ask if there's any rescuing going on from this point."

"Right. You want me to do the talkin'? Cause... no offense... you don't do polite real well."

"Yeah, well, you tend to talk too much. Keep it simple, please?"

"I will for you. Cause you asked so nice."

…

…

…

He leaned against the door frame and listened. There seemed to be no sound at all coming from inside, not the shuffling and soft moaning of the Infected, nor any footsteps or voices indicating people. After a long moment, he nodded and reached for the doorknob.

It wasn't locked, and the door didn't creak as it opened, allowing both him and his traveling companion to enter.

"Upstairs." He whispered, gesturing. His companion nodded, moving towards the stairs with his gun out, crouched low to offer less surface area for attack. He moved towards the two doors on the downstairs level, easing one open and finding it was a bathroom. There were flecks on the mirror that suggested it had been used recently, and it didn't have the smell of death about it. It was clean... That was incredibly odd.

Turning around completely, he faced the door to the storage room under the stairs, taking in a breath. If there were any zombies hiding here, that would be where he would find them.

…

…

…

The door opened and a gun pushed into the doorway. Tori didn't hesitate, grabbing the hand that held the gun and jerking the person it belonged to forward. Upstairs, he heard the distinct scrape, thump and scream that accompanied a Hunter's pounce, a grin touching his face as he twisted his prisoner's arm behind his back and introduced his face to the door.

"Hello precious." He hissed near the person's ear, receiving a string of curses in reply. "You shouldn't play with guns, you could hurt someone."

"Who the fuck are you?! What do you think you're doing?!" The man struggled viciously, but Tori was stronger than him and had the upper hand.

"NICK! NICK! HELP!" Came the high pitched screams from upstairs. "NICK! IT'S GOT ME, NICK!"

"You been keeping a pet Hunter up there or something?" The stranger asked in a breathless sort of way as he continued struggling.

"Nah. He's not going to hurt your friend." Tori applied more pressure on the arm he had hold of, making the struggling cease slightly as the stranger raised up on his toes in an effort to ease the pain. "And I don't want to hurt you. There are a few things we need to get straight before I let you go."

Above the screaming, Tori heard Ishmael growl a question.

"_I feel really bad. Can I take the gun and let the poor kid up_?"

"No." Tori called back, looking down at his prisoner, who wasn't a great deal shorter than him. "So... your name's Nick? Who is your friend?"

"... Ellis." The stranger responded softly, face showing the strain of the position he was in. "And you are?"

"Itoria. Tori to my friends. I'll let you call me Tori if you play nice."

There was a pause, Ellis' whimpering and Tori's breathing unnaturally loud, then Nick released his hold on his gun, dropping it to the floor.

"That's a good boy." Tori murmured, kicking the gun gingerly out of reach. He waited another few seconds, then released his hold on the other man, who spun around with a wince and backed up a few steps. Tori held his hands up, which may not have had the effect he wished since his fingers were still graced with short black claws. "Now... let's talk."

"Let Ellis go." Nick demanded, lip curling. He was probably around the same age as Francis, his hair had grown a little longer than he probably would have kept it, and he wore a white suit and a blue dress shirt. He didn't seem like a stock broker, but he also didn't seem, at this moment, the douchebag type. Which meant that he probably had started this ordeal as a douchebag and had been forced to work with people he had eventually grown very fond of.

Tori felt like he could relate.

"We're playing nice, remember?" Tori rasped, smiling.

Nick stared at him, gave him the equivalent of an 'eat shit and die' expression. "Let Ellis go, please."

"That's better. Ishmael!" He called, the scrambling sound from above him followed by the sound of someone falling down the stairs. Grimacing, Tori sighed but kept his eyes on Nick. The scrawny figure of a very young man scurried to his feet and moved to half hide behind the older male, eyes wide with fear.

"You hurt?" Nick asked softly, a question meant probably for Ellis' ears only, but Tori could hear things better than humans on most days.

Ellis responded by shaking his head furiously. His pulse pounded visibly in the hollow of his throat, sweat beaded on his forehead and his chest was heaving... Tori was starting to feel bad too.

"Nick. They're zombies."

"I know." Nick sighed shortly, arms held in a position that indicated he was trying to protect the other male. "I know they are."

"They're zombies an' they're talkin', Nick." Ellis' breath became quicker, and he reached up both hands and clasped at the beat-up hat on his head. "What in the hell is goin' on?"

"We're different." Tori supplied, lowering his hands and slipping one into the pocket of his long jacket. "And we don't want to kill you, eat you, maim you or any other unpleasant action. You guys are the trespassers, keep that in mind."

"You're living here?" Nick asked, frowning. "Pretending to be people?"

"Not pretending. Keep in mind that the Infected are just sick. Not dead. Still people just... sick people." Tori exhaled. "You want some coffee?"

The two humans exchanged glances, Ellis once again shaking his head furiously. Nick hesitated, then lowered his arms and stood up a little straighter.

Ishmael moved to join Tori, crouching down and gazing up at the humans.

"This is the weirdest shit I've seen since this whole apocalypse started." Nick muttered, pushing his fingers through his hair. "But you're also the friendliest faces we've seen in a long time. Even with the arm twisting."

Tori mockingly bowed, moving into the kitchen and getting some water for their guests. Ishmael continued gazing at the two humans, eventually moving forward and patting Ellis on the leg.

"Sssorry." He hissed, trying to smile. Ellis' face paled.

They all sat together at the table, at first in silence, and to Tori's surprise it was the younger of the humans who broke it.

"So... ya'll been zombies long?" Ellis drawled, looking at Ishmael warily over the brim of his cup.

"Since the outbreak, yeah. Not sure about him." Tori gestured to Ishmael, who shrugged helpfully. "He can't talk as well as I can, you may have noticed."

"How can you talk at all?" Nick asked. His water sat untouched in front of him, and his arms were folded. Tori noticed he was still wearing rings on his fingers. "The Infected can't talk."

"Some of them don't really shut up." Tori leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles. "See, we have our own language... all those growls and hisses and burps and warbles... they mean something. Some of the Infected talk way more than others. Smokers are noisy buggers. Tanks... it's like when someone talks to you in all caps on the internet."

"Chargers must be really noisy." Ellis let out a nervous laugh, but Nick just stared in disbelief at the Smoker.

"Query... Charger?" Tori tilted his head to the side, feathery black hair falling over one shoulder.

"You guys don't have Chargers here?" Nick asked, Tori shaking his head. "They're... grotesque. One arm is shriveled and useless, like a T-rex arm. The other is massive, almost like a Tank. They charge and grab people, then slam them into the ground till they're red mush."

"Charming." Tori curled his nose, looking down at the Hunter now tugging at his sleeve in a rather frantic manner. "What?"

"Steve." Ishmael growled clearly.

"No. That's Nick." Tori corrected, frowning in confusion. Ishmael rolled his eyes and punched Tori in the arm.

"_Steve was the asshole Jan was married to. The guy they mutated at the lab_." Ishmael snarled, Tori blinking and nodding slowly in remembrance. "_He was like that. Like a Charger._"

"Apparently Ishmael's encountered something like that." Tori confirmed for the humans, who were looking both alarmed and curious at Ishmael's noises. "Anything else out there we're not aware of?"

"Well, you're a Smoker, he's a Hunter, you've mentioned Tanks... there are Witches, Boomers, Jockeys, Spitters..." Nick listed, ticking them off on his fingers.

"Spitters are just sick, man. Jockeys too." Ellis shuddered. "Those are little guys who jump on your face-"

"And Spitters spit acid. Since a Boomer almost got us on the way here, I'm sure you know about those." Nick continued, Ellis sitting back with a haunted look on his face.

"Yeah. That stuff is murder to get out of your hair." Tori leaned his elbows against the table.

"If your hair wasn't so girly-" Nick began, Ishmael once again interrupting.

"_Steve spat acid too_."

"That's so creepy." Ellis informed them, eyes now fixed on Ishmael. "Why's he doin' that?"

"He's talking to me." Tori was frowning in concern. "Apparently, he's also seen Spitter tendencies. Look, why don't I tell you guys what's been happening? Maybe then... we can understand one another a little better."

…

…

…

Author's Note:

Lots of talking, but the introduction of two new characters. New to the story, of course. :D Hurray!


End file.
